Sweetheart? I don't think so
by Rianne Pond
Summary: "Sweethear-"  I clapped my hand over his mouth before he even had the chance to finish.  "Don't even think about that!" I exclaimed.  "Haymitch calls me that, there's no way I can love you when all I think is- ugh!" I explained with a shudder.
1. Beautiful

**Sweetheart? I Don't Think so…**

"Babe?" he inquired, rubbing my arm for affect. I shook my head. "Darling…" he whispered.

"Really?" I snapped back. He knit his eyebrows together.

"Angel." "Try farthest thing from. Honey, you're so sweet. I don't need a nickname. Just kiss me," I insisted, leaning in and kissing his lips softly with no reaction from Peeta. He was thinking.

"You have one for me though," he replied. "Sweethear-" I clapped my hand over his mouth before he even had the chance to finish. His eyes grew wide as saucers and I let go.

"Don't even think about that!" I exclaimed. "Haymitch calls me that, there's no way I can love you when all I think is- ugh!" I explained with a shudder. He leaned back on the couch helpless. I scooted closer hoping he's scoop me up and kiss me until I giggled. I even lied my head on his shoulder for good measure, but still nothing.

I stood up walked to the kitchen where I rummaged through our food for a snack. He still would shoot random ideas at me most of which were met with an unenthusiastic "no". I ended up choosing something from the top shelve which I was too short to reach. With just a couple more inches I'd have it, but no.

"Peeta, honey, could you get that down for me?" I begged pointing to the bag of apples on the top shelf. He looked as though he were contemplating another name. I shook my head at him and climbed onto the counter. He quickly rose at the sight of this and held my hips to keep me from falling.

"Shorty?" he tried. I set the apples on the counter and looked into his striking blue eyes.

"Nope," I said with emphasis on the "p".

"Okay, I'm lost." Peeta picked up an apple and took a bite out of it in defeat. I don't know why, but it was so attractive. I found myself staring open-mouthed before deciding how homely I probably looked. He caught my eye and winked. I smiled a large grin at him.

"You can't think of anything?" I asked, more curious now as to what he was thinking. He made a thoughtful face.

"Mockingjay? Girl on fire?" he tried.

"Creativity Peeta!" I demanded of him, he shied away. I watched thoughts cross over his face as he tried desperately to come up with one.

"The only thing I keep thinking is how beautiful you are," he said, his face brightening at his realization. He grabbed my hand and twirled me into his arms. "Beautiful," he beamed, leaning down and kissing me.

I blushed a bright red at such flattery, knowing just how lucky I was to have him.


	2. Eating her up

Eating Her Up

"So, you can't feel any of this?" Katniss asked. I shook my head no. It didn't matter how long the train ride was going to be she'd never get it. "But I thought the tourniquet-"

"Katniss, you did what you could," I whispered, still wishing I could feel my leg rather than the heavy weight at the end of my knee. Katniss would blame herself and let it eat her up. I knew it would bother her for ages, knowing that she couldn't do anything to help me. I held her close and tried to make her ignore it but somehow I knew that it would a constant reminder of the Capitol's hold on us.

That night we fell asleep together in her cabin. I hoped so desperately that Haymitch wouldn't come in and interrupt the little sweet time we had together. Luckily, Haymitch was drunk to the world and allowed us to sleep in. When I woke Katniss was still asleep and our comfortable snuggling had been separated by a blanket now encompassing her. That was when I realized that the cold metal of my leg left her shivering. That was when I came to terms with the way things were going to be.

When she moved in with me I could see the reproach in her eyes as I hugged her or sat near her. Every night when I tried to snuggle with her she would move away. I felt as though it would never be possible to be near her with this terrible scar from the Capitol. I thought things would get better with time but even as the thought crossed my mind I knew it was impossible. Katniss wasn't one to change.

Nothing was different the night of our wedding. The day was easily the happiest one of my life and I'd hoped the night would be too. I made us a romantic dinner and as we retired to bed she curled up into an impossible ball, reassuring that all I could do was wrap an arm around her.

I next spent the day baking, she wondered where my spontaneous actions came from but I just smiled and continued. She didn't yet know that I baked when I was nervous. I had a plan for the night though. She's see soon enough.

"Peeta, could you throw my sweater upstairs for me?" she asked, handing me her light sweater. I smiled.

"Sure Beautiful," I agreed, walking past the thermostat and clicking the heat up one degree on the way upstairs. I knew the oven was making it hot in the house too, but that would only make my plan even better. When I came downstairs I found that Katniss had hidden another cheese biscuit in her chipmunk cheeks. I laughed and came to her squeezing her cheek, causing her to laugh.

She attempted to speak but only managed to make various ridiculous sounds. I grinned and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I'm so happy Katniss," I promised, kissing her cheek. She blushed an embarrassed shade of red as she did every time I kissed her.

"How'd I get so lucky, Sweetie?" she asked, once her mouth was empty. I didn't reply until I'd thought on it.

"I guess the _odds were in your favor_," I said in my best Capitol accent. I just hoped they were also in mine. That night I curled up in bed with Katniss at my side. She tangled herself in the blanket only to kick it off and cling to my cool skin and metal leg. She embraced me like she never had before. I held her like that all night long as the heater blew warm air at us.

I felt clever, sure. I enjoyed holding her in my arms. I loved waking up to her face. I did feel like I tricked her, but I felt marginally better after she woke up in my arms and kissed me on the lips.

"Peeta," she croaked. "Don't think I didn't notice what you did there."

I searched her face for a reaction. She wrapped an arm around me and nuzzled into my chest. I figured that was a satisfactory response. I didn't even worry about the heater, I merely held her close knowing the odds had always been in my favor.


	3. Touch

**Touch**

It's foolish looking back now. She had never thought of me that way before, but it didn't make a difference seeing as though I thought of it that way. I knew it was an act, but I figured with death so inevitable I may as well get my first kiss in the meanwhile. Looking at it now, my uncharacteristic courage is what got me here today. I let go of Gardenia's hand and lifted her onto my hip. I hope she gets my courage and her mother's bravery. She certainly looked like me, but I liked to deny it to Katniss on the fact that her beauty could have only come from her.

I remembered the first step I made to this future. It was one hand movement. I still remember her adept little fingers wrapping themselves within my own. I remembered her rough skin and the way she hung onto me for dear life. For the first time in my life, I felt proud. Proud that it could be me, not Gale protecting her. Not only that, but everyone saw us. We weren't hiding out in the forest together, everyone saw. That was pretty much our entire relationship and even in the arena when we were alone, everyone saw. Still, it was easy to forget that.

Our moments "alone" were still among my favorites. Our first kiss. My first kiss still burned into my mind. How quickly it could have turned into more, how much I wished it would. In the Quarter Quell our alone time grew to be more special. Each time we got into trouble her genuine concern was the only thing that kept me going.

When she lost me, or rather I lost her, there was a length of time that I felt like part of me was missing, there was a feeling of mass confusion and pain. I felt that I lashed out at those I love. There wasn't anything I could have done to prevent the hijacking, but I could have moved the process along by believing in all that she had done for me.

"Can I have a cookie?" Nia begged, her tiny whining voice, so precious to me, reminding me of why I had fallen for her mother. I hadn't the slightest idea what she thought of me at the time but in the games my love for her was as genuine s it was now. I looked into the bright blue eyes of my daughter and lifted her onto the counter. She giggled, a sound I'd only heard her mother make a couple of times.

"Sure Princess," I replied, kissing her on the cute, little, button nose. She violently shook her head.

"No! I'm not a _princess_, Daddy," she insisted.

"Then what are you?" I asked Nia, hoping she would actually answer rather than dividing her attention amongst other places.

"I want to be a hunter like Momma!" she exclaimed, miming having a bow and shooting the cookie jar.

"Looks like you've caught a chocolate chip, Little Hunter."

She giggled yet again.


End file.
